


Brothers from Hell

by Zetal (Rodinia)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, College Student Castiel, College Student Sam, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Sam Has Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:58:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4067620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/pseuds/Zetal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even with a scholarship, Sam needs to work to support himself.  Somehow he ends up waiting tables at a restaurant that caters to the wealthy elite.  When he runs into one of his restaurant's regular customers in a literature class, they strike up an unlikely friendship.</p>
<p>Sam and Dean had an epic fight and didn't speak to each other for a year.  One day out of nowhere Dean calls and says he's nearby.  Sam had plans to hang out with Cas, but he really wants to see Dean again, so... what's the worst that could happen if he introduces the two to each other?</p>
<p>Oh.  Cas and Dean could become instant besties and spend the entire night flirting.  Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brothers from Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shuufleur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shuufleur/gifts).



> This was done based on a prompt by Shuufleur. Go check out the other prompts, they're all intriguing!
> 
> Sam’s at Stanford, but his father doesn’t support him so he has to work as a waiter/bartender at a fancy something (restaurant/bar/lounge). Cas’s family is very rich and influential. Obviously they meet. Their friendship has a rocky start because Sam’s always had bad experience with people like Cas’s family. But they become sort of good friends. Until Cas meets Dean, and it’s like instant friendship. No tension, no difference, it seems like they’ve known each other for years.  
> Sam’s jealous. Very. Because he has kind of a crush on Cas, and Dean has always who he wants. And… Sam doesn’t think he’s good enough for Cas.

Sure, it may have been his idea to introduce the two, but if Sam had known that Castiel and Dean would get along this well, he wouldn’t have encouraged them to be in the same state. Ever. He sat at their booth, sulking a bit as he watched Dean teaching his new best friend to play pool. Except that Sam had taught Castiel months ago, so what exactly was the guy doing? Whatever it was, Dean seemed to find it hilarious, and Sam envied how easily flirting came to Dean.

Admittedly, he and Cas hadn’t gotten off to a great start. They’d first met in a literature class at Stanford, well, sort of. That was the first time they’d ever actually had a conversation that didn’t begin with “What can I get you to drink, sir?” and end with “Thank you for your patronage.” That had been an argument over the portrayal of Lucifer in _Paradise Lost_ , and that turned into a joint research project.

That night, Sam found Castiel and some of his usual companions at one of his tables. Castiel had looked startled to see him, and didn’t acknowledge they vaguely knew each other. The other man had even called him Seth twice. But then, he’d left an abnormally large tip.

The next day, they met at the library. “I’m so sorry about last night, Sam. If it had just been Anna, I would never have acted like that, but Gabriel is unpredictable, and if Uriel realized I actually knew you, he would have given you far more grief than anyone deserves.”

“So you… go there often?” Sam asked, hoping Castiel wouldn’t hear the dismay in his voice. The kind of people who could afford to go to places like the restaurant he worked at frequently could smell the Kansas low class on him, it seemed like. There were a lot of them at Stanford, though there were also a lot of people like him – people who were smart and willing to work their asses off for the chance at that kind of education. And the two worlds usually treated each other like toxins.

“Yes. You’re working there to pay for the things a scholarship doesn’t cover, I assume?” Castiel said.

“Yeah, I’m surprised they let someone like me in that place, too,” Sam snipped.

Castiel blinked. “I didn’t… that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry to have offended you. Again. I’m a little surprised you chose to work there, but you’re very good at it.”

“Yeah, that’s why your buddy keeps complaining about me,” Sam said. He didn’t know whether it was Gabriel or Uriel, but at least once a week, the black man with the shaved head complained about Sam. Fortunately, after the first couple times, the manager had decided to keep a close eye on Sam’s service the next time he got that table, and he couldn’t see anything Sam was doing wrong.

Castiel made a face. “No, that would be because Uriel is an ass. If we hadn’t been raised practically as brothers, I doubt I would be friends with him. Is it causing problems for you?”

“Only when it’s the manager who hates me anyway,” Sam said. “Look, it’s fine, let’s just get started on this project?”

 

A few days later, Sam went into work after a day off, and one of his coworkers caught him. “Hey, you’ll never guess what happened yesterday.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “My favorite customer found a way to complain about me when I wasn’t even here?”

“Actually…” Ramona grinned. “One of his buddies asked if you were working. He actually looked kinda disappointed when he learned you weren’t.”

“Oh, fun. Just what I needed, another customer singling me out.” Sam went to the mirror, checking that his uniform was straight and his hair was under control enough to pass muster, before heading out onto the floor.

On his way out, the manager snagged him. “Sam, everything okay?”

“Huh? What’s wrong, Paula?”

“Not sure if there is anything, just… there’s a guy that’s asked about you two nights in a row, it’s a bit of a red flag for a possible stalker,” Paula explained. “He and his friends are in the bar now, do you want me to tell them you called in sick?”

That didn’t make a lick of sense to Sam. None of it did. It had to be Castiel, but why go to the bar just to wait for him to come on shift? If Uriel was with him, Sam was going to regret this, but instead he told Paula, “No, if things get weirder I’ll let you know, but I think he’s trying to apologize or something. He was kind of a douche to me last time I had his table.”

“If he’s a douche again, tell me,” Paula said. “You’re good at this, and unlike most college kids you don’t ditch us over the summer or Christmas or anything.” It was true, Sam didn’t. He’d gotten this job two weeks into his first quarter at Stanford, and now, in his junior year, he’d only requested off twice and called in sick once. He more than made up for those three by usually being willing to cover when others called in. Between work and studying, it didn’t leave much time for a social life, but he needed to do both and didn’t need a social life.

He’d never had a social life growing up, outside of his brother Dean. Their dad had made sure of that, never letting them stay more than two months in the same school. Through four years of high school, Sam had gone on exactly three dates and gone to two parties. One of those was the after-graduation party.

Then there’d been the royal blowup when Sam had told his father that he was going to college. John had thrown a fit worthy of a two-year-old, that ended with him telling his son that if he walked out the door, he shouldn’t plan on coming back. Sam had walked anyway. Dean was right behind him. The plan had been for Dean to take Sam to school, drop him off, and head back to meet up with John. When they got to California, though, Dean told Sam that he wasn’t going back. He was going to set off on his own, and Sam could call him any time to talk.

Sam called Dean at least once a week, and Dean was pretty good about getting out to Palo Alto every couple months. At the end of Sam’s sophomore year, though, they’d had their own blowout fight over Sam not taking a month off to go with Dean, and hadn’t spoken for six months by this point.

The table had filled up, and Sam quickly looked over the guests before approaching. Uriel wasn’t with them. He thought one of the two women was Anna, and he’d certainly seen the other woman with the group before. Castiel, of course, but while he vaguely recognized the other man, it wasn’t from seeing him in the restaurant, he was sure. He was somewhat older than the people Castiel usually came with.

Castiel behaved himself, and the entire table treated him well. When Sam brought out the desserts, Castiel stopped him as he was trying to leave. “Uncle, this is the classmate I told you about, the one with the interesting opinions of Milton. Sam, my uncle Michael.”

Sam was glad he’d set everything down by then, as he was sure he’d have actually dropped a plate for the first time since he’d started. No wonder he’d recognized the man. Everyone knew Michael Godwin. At least, anyone with any interest in the legal profession. The man had only written the book on legal studies – literally, Sam had just bought the top book everyone recommended for studying for the LSAT, and Michael Godwin was right there on the About the Author page. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” Sam finally managed to say.

Michael nodded graciously. “My daughter, Rachel,” he said, indicating the blonde woman Sam recognized. “And niece Anna.”

“I’m Castiel’s sister,” Anna clarified. “But our uncle and aunt did most of the work raising us, since our father is… not the most reliable of parents.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Sam said. “But I should probably get back to work.”

“Of course,” Michael said pleasantly.

 

The next time they met for their project, things were better. Despite the rocky start, the two became friends. Castiel started hanging out in bars with Sam on his nights off, and Sam went to dinner with Castiel and some of his family a few times. Any time the family came to Sam’s restaurant, they all had taken to asking for Sam, much to the bewilderment of his managers and coworkers.

And then, in June, almost exactly a year after the fight, Sam’s phone rang and Dean was on the other end. “Hey, college boy. So I’m an idiot. But I’m in Modesto, if you’re willing to put this crap fight behind us it’d be nice to see you again.”

“Dean?” Of course, that was just like Dean. He’d learned it from Dad, of course. Sweep crap under the rug with the vaguest apology you can get away with and move on. “I said some things I really shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry. I’m supposed to meet a friend of mine at a bar in half an hour, so if you wanna see me, come on over.” He gave Dean the name and address, trusting Dean’s uncanny bar-finding instincts to get him there.

Castiel had heard all about the fight, including how sorry Sam was about it and how much he wished he had the courage to try calling him again. He’d called several times, that first month, but Dean never answered and he’d eventually given up. So Cas was very surprised to hear that Dean was coming. But he’d rolled with it, being as friendly as he could when Sam introduced the two, and Dean’s natural charm had worked what seemed like a miracle.

And now, two hours later, Sam felt like the third wheel on Dean’s date. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. There were a lot of times when Dean and Sam snuck into bars together and Sam ended up being abandoned for some beautiful girl or hot dude. He’d always been a little annoyed, but he’d never been jealous of it. So the jealousy here was unfamiliar, and Sam had spent the better part of a half hour trying to figure out why this time was different.

By the time he was done thinking, he’d figured it out, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. Not that there was anything wrong with Castiel, mind you. No, the problem was, as usual, Sam. It wasn’t his first crush, it wasn’t even the first one who he’d had to watch respond to Dean’s flirting. But Castiel was different, somehow. Maybe it was that they’d been friends for months.

Of course, it’s not like he could ever be good enough for Castiel. Dean had the sort of confidence and charisma that overcame those differences. Sam didn’t. So while Sam might, one day, with hard work and stubbornness, make something of himself, he’d never be comfortable with people like Castiel’s family. Castiel himself excepted, and Anna maybe. He’d worked at a restaurant catering to them for too long to believe that they’d ever see him as more than the Kansas boy he was.

Sam was snapped out of his self-pitying thoughts by the return of Cas and Dean with another round. “Sammy, come on, put the textbook away,” Dean complained as he set Sam’s beer right on top of the open page. “He always like this, Cas?”

“Yes. Of course, usually I’m studying as well,” Castiel said.

Sam looked up and moved the beer off to one side. “Have fun learning how to play pool, _Cas_?” It didn’t surprise him that Dean had already nicknamed the guy, but it did surprise him that Castiel seemed to be going along with it.

“Your brother is a good teacher,” Castiel said, completely missing the point.

Dean hadn’t. He shot Sam a skeptical glance. “Cas is a good student. He picked things up exceptionally quick. I didn’t know better, I’d think I was getting hustled.”

“Well, you’re the expert,” Sam said. Somehow, that just made things worse. Dean had picked up on the fact that Cas already knew how to play and kept teaching him anyway. “Why’d you call me, after all this time?”

Dean blinked. And then again. “You’re my little brother and I missed you?”

“Yeah. You missed me so much you waited an entire _year_ to call. That makes sense. And then when you are here you take off to play pool.” Sam slammed his textbook closed.

“Honestly? After the way I never picked up for you, I figured you wouldn’t pick up for me,” Dean said sheepishly. “Like I said on the phone, I’m an idiot. I hadn’t planned on calling until Dad called and asked me to go to Modesto for a job, which by the way wasn’t _that_ phone call a surprise. Then I figured if I can swallow my pride enough to be civil to Dad, I should be able to do it to at least try to make things right with you.”

“What, Dad sent you to Modesto so he wouldn’t have to be anywhere near me?” Sam asked, acid dripping from his voice. This is one he hadn’t told Cas about. He’d said that his mom was dead and his dad was an asshole and that was it as far as family other than Dean was concerned.

Dean took a long gulp of his beer. “Actually, that’s pretty much right. Don’t know what his problem is, but he’s still holding on to that fight. I’m only a slightly better choice – he’s not actually pissed at me, just so disappointed that I picked you over him that he doesn’t wanna see me.”

“What happened?” Castiel asked softly. “What could you have done that would still have your father so angry three years later?”

“Killed my mom and then left for college,” Sam said bitterly.

“You did not kill Mom,” Dean said, reaching across the table to slap the back of Sam’s head before turning to face Castiel. “Mom died when Sam was just a baby. Our house caught fire, some shoddy wiring had finally frayed enough to spark, and Mom tried to save Sam. I wasn’t quite five yet, but I’ll never forget the ceiling caving in like that. Mom had thrown herself over Sammy to protect him, and then she shoved him into my arms and told me to take him outside as fast as I could and not look back. By the time the firefighters got to her, it was too late.”

Sam picked up the story there. “I don’t remember what Dad was like before the fire, obviously, but afterwards he was a paranoid, bitter alcoholic. He couldn’t hold a steady job, I’m pretty sure I’ve lived in at least forty different states, and he blamed me for Mom being gone. He told me once that it should have been me trapped in there, that Mom shouldn’t have risked her life to save a demon child. And yet, he couldn’t stand the thought of letting me go, either. He expected me and Dean to stay with him forever. Me leaving, I think he’d have eventually gotten over, but Dean came with me. So the demon child had obviously corrupted the one good piece of Mom that was still left.”

“Which is a load of crap that you shouldn’t be thinking,” Dean snarled.

Sam picked at the label of his beer. He’d never told Dean this, because he knew Dean was hoping that they could eventually reconcile with Dad, but it felt like time. “Hard not to. That first November I was gone, Dad called. I picked up thinking maybe he was going to retract the stay or don’t come back ultimatum, or at least have a civil conversation where we ignored everything we said during that fight, but instead he laid into me for Mom dying and you leaving. He called again the next November, but I didn’t pick up.”

Castiel reached out and pulled Sam’s hand away from the beer, holding it. “My mom died when I was six. She was on her way to work after dropping me and Anna at school, and decided to take a shortcut. This guy came out of nowhere and shot her. Dad took off, and last we heard of him he was wanted in connection with several arsons. I’d be surprised if they managed to bring him in, because he’d have called Uncle Michael for legal representation, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he were dead. The one time he did call, he refused to talk to either Anna or me, because we were the reason he’d lost his beautiful wife.”

“Here’s to asshole fathers,” Dean said, holding up his beer. “Least the three of us turned out okay.”

“Four,” Sam corrected as he used his free hand to clank his beer against Dean’s. “Anna’s okay, too.”

“Anna and I had a lot more support than the two of you, though,” Castiel pointed out. “Once he took us in, Uncle Michael never treated us as anything less than his own, and we had Rachel and other family around us. From what Sam’s told me, it’s always been the two of you against the world.”

“Yeah.” Dean drank down his beer. “Which is why I’m such an asshole for waiting so long to call Sammy. Good to know he eventually found you, that he has someone other than me who gives a damn about him.”

“As it is good to know that you wish to make amends and resume your close relationship,” Castiel said. “I’ll admit, I was extremely skeptical when Sam told me you were coming. Sam tried, but I never could understand why he was willing to shove the past year aside. I think I do, now.”

It was bad enough watching them from across the room. Sam wondered why they had to flirt when they were sitting across the table from him. He also wondered why Cas was still holding his hand.

Dean cleared his throat. “Well, last time we talked, you were thinkin’ about law school, Sammy. Still thinking that way?”

“Yeah.” Sam shoved the textbook he’d brought over to Dean. “I’m actually taking the LSAT in about a week. Unless I do really well, I’m gonna take it again in October just to be sure.”

“Oof. Good luck.” Dean pushed the textbook back to Sam. “Surprised you’re here and not at home in a nest of books and notes and practice tests.”

Sam looked down, trying to hide the smile. Dean had mocked him mercilessly his entire senior year because of how he’d built a small fortress of study materials to prepare for his SAT, both times he took it. “Well, for one, I actually have a proper desk that I can work at, so I don’t need to nest on the floor. Two, if I do badly, I can retake it in October and I’ll be fine. And three, last week I kinda forgot to show up to meet Castiel here, and he came to my apartment and literally dragged me from my chair out the door.”

“Fortunately, when I generously decided he could go back in and get ONE book, he decided he could walk under his own power the rest of the way. Sometime between last December and now, your brother put some muscle on to go with the height.” Castiel lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I think it’s from hauling his books with him everywhere he goes.”

“Nah, he’s always done that,” Dean said through the snickering. “Are you occasionally making him eat something other than protein bars?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “He can be really annoying about it. The week leading up to finals and during, he called me at midnight every night to tell me to get my ass in bed and go to sleep. EVERY. NIGHT.”

Castiel snorted. “And if a single one of them you’d actually been in bed – asleep, taking your Constitutional history notes with you doesn’t count – when I called, I might not have had to.”

“I was _studying_!” Sam protested, as he’d done every night.

Castiel gave him the exasperated look that Sam could _hear_ shot at the phone every night in response. “And how were your grades?”

“I… they were fine,” Sam said. “But that’s not…”

“Dean, I know you didn’t go to college, but can you explain to your brother that when his lowest grade on his finals was a 94 and he made straight As in his classes, then he probably studied enough even though I made him go to sleep at a reasonable hour?”

“I can try,” Dean smirked. “But then, I tried all through high school and you’re still having to do it, so obviously I didn’t get through to him.”

“God, it’s not bad enough watching you two flirt, now you’re ganging up on me?” Sam complained. “I hate you both so much right now.”

“You love us, you know it, we know it, so don’t bother lying to us like that.” Dean reached over the table to slap Sam on the back of the head again. “It’s never bothered you before when you think I’m flirting. Which by the way I’m not, I’m just being my usual charming self.”

“Why in the world would I flirt with your brother?” Castiel asked, looking genuinely perplexed. “No offense, Dean, it’s nothing to do with you.”

“None taken.”

Sam looked between the two. “Why wouldn’t you flirt with Dean? Everyone else does.”

That same exasperated tone was back. “Yes, yes, Dean is handsome and charming and if I had met him seven months ago things might have been different. Of course, you do have to allow for the fact that I am very bad at flirting. As it is, that seems like the stupidest possible thing I could do.”

“Got that right,” Dean said. Sam was now horribly, terribly confused. “Well, I suppose you could probably come up with something stupider. I know a waitress in Tampa you could try.”

“What the hell?”

Dean looked between Sam and Cas. “Wait. Are you telling me… oh my god, Sam, are you actually this clueless? Please tell me you’re not actually this clueless.”

“How clueless am I supposed to be?” Sam asked. “Because I’m feeling pretty damn clueless right about now.”

Cas looked down at where he was still holding Sam’s hand. “You are.”

“You don’t see it?” Dean said. “The way Cas looks at you? At least tell me you aren’t clueless about the way you look at him when you think he’s not looking, you’re not that stupid.”

“But…” Sam looked down at his hand in Cas’s, and then up into his friend’s eyes. “Seriously? Me?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you since March,” Castiel admitted. “Did I mention that I am extremely bad at this?”

“Why didn’t you just… come out and say it?”

“I was afraid,” Castiel said. “I know how you look at my family, particularly Uncle Michael. How you see yourself. Like you’re some… some mud monkey consorting with angels. You’ve never believed me when I tell you that I truly enjoy your company and this place and everything else connected with you that you think is somehow not good enough for me. How could I expect you to believe I wanted more from you? So I protected my friendship with you and tried to tell you in other ways.”

Fair enough, Sam had to admit. He probably wouldn’t have told him either, given the circumstances. “Well, Dean’s gonna kill me, but you’re right. I wouldn’t have believed you. And I’m slow enough on the uptake to have not figured out that I want more from you until tonight.”

“I will warn you that certain of my family members will never accept you, some because of your background, some because we’re both male,” Castiel said. “But the ones whose opinion I actually care about, Anna and Michael and Angela and Rachel, they will. Anna’s been teasing me about you for months.”

“Ugh, this means I have to actually deal with Uriel, doesn’t it?”

“Unfortunately,” Castiel said. “I’ll try to be worth it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are the best! I love them! There's a rumor going around that enough comments will pay for surgery to correct John Winchester's craniorectal inversion!
> 
> So, the title... my original thoughts were that this was gonna go in a much different direction, Uriel was gonna play a much bigger role and Dean was gonna be more of a jerk, and I spent an hour staring at this post trying to come up with a new title and couldn't. I suck at titles. So I went ahead and left it although it's not reflective of the story at ALL.


End file.
